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Saturday, 23 March 2013

Work hard, play hard, seduce hard!

This is a kind of sequel to my last but one post.

I’ve had a lot of work this last fortnight. I won’t
reveal details but I work for myself in a varied field involving a lot of
international contacts. Anything from French TV licencing, German motorway
construction, Italian nuclear waste management, Belgian pensions, American
diplomats, Canadian web design, Filipino scientists, Pakistani law. Oh, and
champagne promotions and beauty product advertising. That's just in the last couple of weeks. The point is that I use my
male name and credentials which have a certain profile in my field now, but can
work as female from my studio or my home. Best of both worlds, in effect. And,
let’s face it, business needs a bit of acumen these days so going full-time female on an official basis with all its social and professional upheavals is avoided.

But being busy hasn’t stopped me from getting out one or two
evenings a week. Let’s face it, I need time away from the desk/computer/easel.

So Wednesday of last week I joined the Brick Lane Set for
dinner. Gillian came to mine after work to dress and we drove there but it took
ages in the London traffic and we got shot off in the wrong direction after one
tiny mistake in Central London. That’s one reason why I don’t drive here any
more. But we had a good evening with Rachel the Organiser Lady and her posse
including Suzi, who was out for the very first time, and the glamorous Pippa.
I’d also invited my friend Irene. Here we all are at the Verge Bar.

The Brick Lane set in Verge; me, Pippa, Suzi, Rachel, Irene. Photo taken by Gillian and lent to me by Pippa.

I’m always thrilled to be with a girl on her first trip out.
It makes the occasion very special. Well done, Suzi. You are very elegant and
are lovely company. Hope it’s the start of a joyous life out in this big
exciting world of ours.

We went off to eat at Loco Mojito http://www.locomojito.co.uk/ where I’ve
been a few times before. A Mexican that stands defiantly in a sea of Indian restaurants! Food wasn’t bad but the wine (a pinot grigio rosé) was
terrible – the bottle was some bin end with a £2.99 label still stuck on it,
and I won’t tell you what they charged for it! And they didn’t serve coffee.
¡Caramba! ¿No coffee in a Mexican restaurant? ¿Ees weird, no? But, to be fair, that was the
only time I’ve felt slightly disappointed there.

By the way, if you clicked on the link, you’ll be amused or
irritated by the music or maybe both. He he hee (Mexican style cackle).

Us in Loco Mojito, Pippa's photo.

Pippa and I decided the night was young and headed off to
Soho. We had a drink in Escape bar, a karaoke sort of place which, truthfully,
is not my thing and so I dived into Trannyshack next door, which is what Madame
JoJo’s is on Wednesdays. I described my first visit to Trannyshack last summer
here http://suerichmond.blogspot.co.uk/2012_06_01_archive.html

This time, as a lone girl, I was beset by Admirers, a
special breed of men who love TGirls. Within moments of entering one had his
paws all over me and was saying in an accent I couldn’t place, “Nice lady, come
to toilet”.

Now why would I want to come with him to the toilet?

“Nice lady, come. Come to toilet. Toilet nice. I got
condom.”

“No, toilet not nice.”

He looked at me in surprise: “But toilet nice!” he exclaimed
as if it was a self-evident truth.

I politely declined. Apart from the fact that the toilets
there are in any case cramped and inadequate, and, more to the point, that I
don’t fancy that with a strange man, it
somewhat dismayed me that this chat-up line was something that presumably
brings him occasional success.

Then I got a drink. The barmaid rammed a block of fused ice
cubes into the top of the glass with her fist. It wedged there inelegantly like
an iceberg on an empty container ship. Darling, please use tongs, not the hand
you handle money with. Yuck. I didn’t enjoy my drink as a result. Should’ve
made her do it properly but it’s hard to concentrate when some bloke is pawing
you.

So I left the bar and sat down. Bad move, as the next
admirer plonked himself down next to me and grabbed my knee. “I think you have
nice soft bottom” he said in his North African accent. I pointed out that that
was my knee and that it was probably a bit hard. Not in the least bit put off,
he continued his silver-tongued litany: “I come home with you tonight and we
f***?”

Er, how about no?

He downed his beer, got up and said, “Wait, I go to toilet.
I full of wee tonight.” A few minutes later he was back, having bought himself
another beer, and went through the routine all over again. Hmm. Buy a girl a
drink and maybe see if things improve? Nope, not on his radar.

These encounters are at once amusing and tragic, a tranny
tragicomedy, the tranny shock at Trannyshack. They must get off sometimes,
these admirers. But the total lack of finesse and charm is staggering. At least
these two weren’t scruffy and menacing-looking like other admirers I’ve seen.
My mood wasn’t helped by Pippa then bouncing in announcing, “God, the real
women in this place are just gagging for it!”. Miss Dusty O, the compère, then
announced a noisy T rock band and I realised my visit had not been a success.
You win some, you lose some. Truthfully, the T scene is not really my thing as
I prefer a normal venue like a restaurant, café, shop, pub, etc. But I’ll give
Trannyshack a third visit some time and see how that goes.

As ever, I’d just missed the night bus and had to wait
almost 30 minutes for the next one. I’d selected my knee-length leather skirt
and mock-croc boots for the evening and they kept me warm in the chill wintry
air, as well as my thick coat. Finally collapsed in bed at 3.30am and slept in
all the next morning. Truthfully, I’m getting a bit too old for this!

This post is longer than I expected, so I’ll tell you about
this week’s shenanigans in a new post. Thanks for reading, and I hope you had a
giggle.

Lol. Thanks, Lynn. Well done for spotting the tights. Aristoc diamond tulle in black. Bought them years ago (in House of Fraser, Oxford St, I think) but this was their first outing. (Sorry, tights are my passion - I catalogue them, like rare books or butterfly specimens). Sue x